Dear Sakura
by Amazoness Duo and G.P.
amazonessduo@hotmail.com
pearsong1954@yahoo.com
Waiting for the taxi to take him to the airport, Syaoran worked up
the courage to tell his mother about the trip. Since he was a small
child, the Illustrious Head of the August House of Li had frightened
him. He grew up secretly envious of his sisters, whom Ieran indulged
extravagantly. His portion of love seemed meager and sparse, and
nothing he did could satisfy or please her. Her training in the
martial and magical arts was harsh and exacting. Though not so
thorough as to enable him to beat his cousin, he thought through his
pain with a wince. Once he had asked her in tears why she was so mean
to him. For a brief instant he saw her face soften with pity, but
then the aloof and impassive countenance returned. She told him he
was the successor to the House of Li, the most noble and powerful
family in all of Hong Kong. Therefore, he must be strong, or the
House would suffer when he rose to lead it. At first he had hated the
training, and the pain, and the constant sense that what he did was
never quite enough. Why couldn't he be like his sisters, enjoying
the tender affection of a Mother, instead of a scorned and neglected
son? In the end, he realized that only by measuring up to her lofty
standards could he please her, and win her love. So, he dedicated his
young life to perfecting the requisite skills to become the most
powerful of sorcerers. When she sent him to Japan to investigate the
presence of Clow Reed's long lost cards, he went determined to
succeed. But did not. He had failed.
Looking at the bed he shared with his wife, he felt a spasm of pure
anger. She had bested him, capturing the Cards with ridiculous ease.
A girl. A Japanese schoolgirl had turned out to be the successor to
the mightiest magician in the entire world. Nearly overmastered by
his fear of failure, he dreaded returning to Hong Kong. But instead
of rage he met indifference, as if she regarded the turn of events as
unsurprising and trivial. Indeed, when the girl showed up in Hong
Kong his mother treated her as an honored guest, even bestowing a
farewell kiss. It shocked and irritated him, but he knew enough to
see that his mother now recognized the girl as Mistress of the Cards.
Before leaving again for Japan, he asked her why she had conceded so
much to such a silly girl. She looked at him with a rare fury, and
for a moment he thought she would actually strike him. Angrily she
told him never again to show such disrespect to the Mistress of the
Cards. He was fortunate beyond his worth to act as her servant, she
said, and from now on should remember his proper place. Crushed at
first, he came to accept his role as Sakura's helper, and even found
himself attracted to the girl. His love for the mysterious, fair-
haired Yukito waned as he and Sakura captured and transmuted the
Cards. The more the two Cardcaptors were together, the stronger his
love waxed. It pleased him that she accepted his help, and he gloried
in the knowledge that without him she would have failed time and
again. It was obvious she needed him, and her frantic race to deliver
the teddy bear before he flew back to Hong Kong showed her love as
well.
As love grew across the distance, he felt for the first time in his
life the power he had always desired. Unlike his mother, Meiling, or
even his teasing older sisters, Sakura depended on him. Yet it wasn't
until the Daidouji girl mentioned marriage that the thought of making
her his wife occurred to him. She was right, of course, for they were
meant to be together. With that, the Mistress of the Cards was his,
and everything came full circle. This marriage was right, despite
what Meiling and their Grandfather and even his Mother thought. H had
captured the heart of Clow Reed's successor. This was the mark of his
true power. Of course, it had still been, well, difficult to break
the news to his Mother. Thus, the marriage took place in Japan, with
no notice given to his own kin. After a month's honeymoon, he
returned to Hong Kong to face his Mother's wrath. Surprisingly, she
showed no sign of anger; seemingly regarding what was done as done.
She treated Sakura with the same cold aloofness as her son, which
was, he thought, a fitting and proper relationship for a mother-in-
law and her unworthy daughter-in-law. All seemed well until that
meddlesome Daidouji girl had come and upset everything. The
nondescript girl was at everyone's center of attention, and even
merited a grander banquet than his own bride. Not that his clueless
spouse would care about such things, he brooded. When he asked his
sister why Mother had put on such a splendid banquet for some little
rich girl from Japan, Fanren looked at him with a shocked contempt he
had never seen her show. She said that Mother had done a long and
complex water prophecy, and that the woman was of overwhelming
importance to the House of Li. She asked him sharply that if Mother
had so determined, did he think she deserved any less? He snorted his
derision, remaining baffled by his family's treatment of a mere
friend of his wife. But now he wondered about her importance, because
it seemed she was at the root of his flighty wife's sudden
disappearance. That would cast her in a new light entirely, for
whoever stood in the way of the Heir to the House of Li was an enemy
to be struck down without mercy.
The righteous anger he had worked up vanished like a morning mist as
he stood on the threshold of his Mother's study. Swallowing his fear
as best he could, he knocked softly. After informing the idiotic
flying teddy bear that he had to tell his Mother he was leaving, the
so-called Beast of the Seal laughingly promised to rescue him if he
didn’t return in half an hour. From deep within he heard his mother's
silken, iron voice answer his knock,
"Come in."
Syaoran entered, eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight that
illuminated the windowless room. She was hunched over a yellowed
scroll etched in odd, shimmering characters. He felt his stomach
tighten with the realization he was interrupting her research.
Clearing his throat, he managed to stammer out,
"Sakura is gone."
His Mother slowly turned to face him, taking off a pair of delicate
spectacles as she carefully regarded him. In a calm, quiet voice that
demanded attention, she asked, "What do you mean, gone?"
He looked at the floor, feeling the helplessness of childhood wash
over him again. Trying to sound like a concerned husband baffled by a
hopeless wife, he answered, "I don't know for sure, but I think she
went back to Japan. I think it has something to do with the Daidouji
girl."
He peeked up and saw his Mother smiling at him. Like a snake ready
to strike, he thought, and felt anger and fear at his helplessness.
Smiling, she purred,
"Yes, I know."
Startled, he blurted out, "Then why didn't you tell me? Why did she
go like that?"
Gazing at him like a long-suffering teacher with a particularly
dense pupil, she replied flatly, "As for the latter, I don't know,
exactly. As for why I didn't tell you, it is for the good of the
House that you not interfere. And for your good, too, for that
matter."
His anger overmastered his caution, and in a demanding voice he shot
back, "How can she do this to me? She can't leave me like this."
His Mother regarded him silently, letting his anger surge, and then
dissipate, leaving him flustered and faintly ridiculous. She spoke in
a neutral tone, again the patient teacher, "Syaoran, she should never
have been here in the first place. If that woman can undo the damage
you have wrought, a thousand banquets would not suffice for my
gratitude."
Syaoran starred with wide eyes and open mouth. Utterly at a loss for
words, he slumped into the nearest chair, forgetting the etiquette of
standing in the presence of the Head of the House. Had he not been so
stunned, the trembling young man might have detected a trace of pity
in her voice as she continued,
"You thought you never asked for my permission to wed because I
would have said no, as indeed I would have. But you yourself also
knew it was wrong, or you would have stood up to me for what was
right. That is how I raised you, and for all your flaws that is how
you are. Your courage comes from doing what is right, but you married
secretly, like a coward. That in itself doomed you both, but it was
even worse than that. You were graced by fortune to be servant to the
Mistress of the Cards. For someone of your meager strength, that was
a far better portion than you deserved. But you wanted more. You
lusted for power you could not have. That explains your attraction to
Yue in his false form, and your selfish desire to make Clow Reed’s
noble successor your humble wife. All this without a single thought
of the consequences for her, or this House, or even yourself. It is
said there is nothing more dangerous than a weak fool. You have
proved the sage wise by your reckless actions."
Syaoran burned with humiliation at his Mother's words. He stared at
the floor, and replied in a voice laced with anger, "She loves me.
And I love her."
The cold fury of his Mother's rejoinder shook him, "Don't speak to
me of 'love'. You have no conception of what you are saying. Sakura
loves everyone. That is her nature. But you love her power, not her.
That “Daidouji girl”, as you call her, could teach you a lesson in
what real love is. She cheerfully sacrificed her life for the one she
loves. What did you sacrifice? Like a greedy miser, you could only
take what you longed for, without a thought or care for anyone but
yourself."
Ieran sighed, feeling the mounting weight of years and
responsibilities. Her whispery voice was almost plaintive, "Why
didn't you ask me? You at least owed me that much, though perhaps it
would not have mattered in the end. How can a blind man see the cliff
that approaches?'
The two sat silent in the near dark for several long minutes.
Syaoran fought back tears as he finally whispered, "I know she loves
me."
Ieran's voice was surprisingly gentle, "Pray that she knows her
heart at last, and that it is not to late for all of us."
Watching her son carefully, the woman rose and walked lightly to the
door, locking it with a heavy metallic chungk. Striding to the center
of the room, she stood in front of a golden bowl filled with water.
Gesturing for her son to stand by the bowl across from her, she
softly began to sing and chant. Syaoran, recognizing the words of a
powerful and dangerous spell, felt a ripple of fear as his Mother
waved her hands above the shimmering surface. The bowl began to
vibrate and sing in odd harmony with her voice. The young man stood
silent, in awe of the magic that billowed through the room. He felt
an odd metallic tang in his mouth, and caught an overripe scent of
something both sweet and foul. His eyes made out vague shapes in the
water, flickering images like projections on a liquid movie screen.
He strained to see the figures as they coalesced, and was startled to
see Sakura dressed all in white, like mourner. Her sudden wailing
chilled him, as if she were some mindless animal in agony. Like a
madwoman she beat her hands bloody on a dark gravestone, and then he
saw himself pulling her away as she keened and sobbed. The image
shifted and blurred, and next he saw the Card Mistress dressed in an
odd, half-finished costume, like that girl used to sew for her. The
Cards danced about her, chained with iron, howling in pain as she
swept the air with her staff. The staff had become a monstrous
scythe, fiery and alive, infused with a cruel and vengeful will. Her
magic roiled and blossomed in an obscene wave of sheer power. The
emerald eyes were blank and dull, but amidst the terrible storm he
heard her lifeless voice,
"Bring her back to me."
This vision swiftly gave way to a horrifying vista of destruction,
as the house he had grown up in was torn apart by the furious
tempest. Soon other buildings were swept into the maelstrom, and the
entire City was consumed in a holocaust of wind and fire. The last
image was a graveyard, stones and bodies torn from the groaning earth
and swept into the throbbing, black sky. He fell back, faint and
sick, staggering to the wall where he slumped to the floor and
cowered in fear. His Mother struggled with the spell, and in a
supreme effort banished the awful images to wherever they had come.
Pale drained, she managed to walk imperiously and confront her son.
Her voice was shaky but still commanding,
"Since your ill-begotten marriage I have lived with this nightmare.
Pray to all the spirits of our illustrious ancestors that it remains
but a dream. Now, leave me."
As her son walked unsteadily out the door, the woman dropped to the
chair and held her head with shaking hands. Blanketed by the
throbbing pain of a merciless headache, her mind was consumed in
black hatred,
"Damn you, Clow Reed. Damn you for all you have done."
Syaoran walked down the hallway, the shock of what he had seen
slowly wearing off. His anger surged anew, fed by a righteous rage at
his abandonment by Sakura, and by the Daidouji woman's stealing her
away. Under his breath the defiant husband resolved,
"I'll bring her back. She loves me. She's mine."